


Nervous Energy

by bitterowl



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, Established Relationship, Fade to Black, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:59:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8636173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterowl/pseuds/bitterowl
Summary: Erlich does something stupid, and Richard tries to make it better.





	

"But—" Richard fidgeted. Two cocktails later, and he was even less equipped to deal with this than if he were sober. "I thought you liked this. Parties. Talking to billionaires."

Erlich shifted uncomfortably, hands clenching and unclenching, his breathing quick and his shoulders stiff. The miserable, nervous energy rolled off of him in waves—even Richard could pick up on it, and Richard never picked up on anything. But really, Richard couldn't blame him. The night was going worse than his anxiety-riddled brain had anticipated.

Mostly, Richard was more used to being the one having anxiety attacks in a strange hallways—not the other way around.

Erlich was usually more dauntless than this, even in the face of things that would make lesser men want the earth to swallow them whole.

"I'm fine," Erlich replied through gritted teeth, but he wasn't fine—he looked like he was going to snap at any moment.

"We can leave if you want," Richard said, hesitating a second before putting a comforting hand on Erlich's broad shoulder. "I'm sorry that guy was being a—a total shithead to you. He doesn't matter."

Erlich looked at Richard in a way that suggested he thought Richard was not only stupid, but completely insane. "He's a fucking genius, Richard. Everyone here is." He buried his face in a hand, muffling his voice. "And I can't leave. If I leave, they win."

The altercation had mostly been Erlich's fault—as it often was—but Richard couldn't help but feel bad that he was, well, _suffering_ so much over it. While Erlich had obviously been baited—it was apparent that everybody here thought he was an embarrassing mess, regardless of his current net worth—the whole situation could have been avoided if Erlich had just handled it with even a little more grace. Instead of laughing off the shade being thrown his way, he had gotten needlessly incensed and, in a moment of flustered rage, accidentally stumbled right into a large champagne tower.

Richard had practically heard Erlich's self-esteem shatter along with the seventy-five Waterford Crystal flutes, each filled with nearly two hundred dollars' worth of champagne.

(The host had let them know the cost several times before Erlich had lain waste to it.)

"I think they win anyway," Richard said softly, rubbing small circles into Erlich's bicep. "I'm pretty sure they just invited us here to mess with us. This used to happen to me all the time when I worked at Hooli." Richard frowned. "And in high school. And middle school. And elementary school, too, come to think of it."

Erlich gave him a pitying squint. "Jesus."

Richard just shrugged in reply.

Sighing, Erlich leaned in to Richard's touch. After a couple of seconds of silence, he let Richard pull him into a hug. "I'm _not_ going home, though," he said, burying his face in Richard's messy hair.

"Well, we don't have to leave, but..." Richard said slowly, suddenly finding himself especially vengeful toward the dickheads who had dared to reduce Erlich to _this_. Clearing his throat, Richard forced himself to speak before he completely chickened out. "We don't have to go back to the party, either."

"Hm?" Erlich gave his forehead a scratchy kiss. Much to Richard's frustration, he wasn't picking up on the implication.

"We could—uhm—" Richard stammered, already feeling his face go red at the thought of even suggesting it. He wasn't very good at this, but goddamn if he was going to let Erlich be sad. "We could go fuck in this dude's bathroom."

Erlich pulled away and looked down at Richard with vague shock, as though didn't quite believe what he had just heard. While they'd fucked around in their fair share of strange bathrooms, it was almost always the end result of the both of them getting drunker and weirder as the night progressed. This was the first time Richard had so much as made the first move, let alone suggested anything out loud and in plain English.

However, as he seemed to think about it, Erlich's expression shifted from surprise, to understanding, to bemused desire. "Shit," he said, his face tugging into a slowly widening grin as he looked down at Richard. "I think that'd make me feel better."

Richard bit his lip and smiled stupidly, trailing his fingers down Erlich's stomach, averting his eyes when Erlich's hungry gaze threatened to overwhelm him. "I figured it might," he said, his voice wobbling already. Feeling brave, he looked up at him through his eyelashes, hands already playing at Erlich's waistband.

Erlich let out a pleased noise, half laugh and half appreciative grunt. "We could leave a mess for him and his shitty, pretentious guests to find," he said, his own hands finding Richard's hips, giving them a squeeze. "You think you could help me out with that, tiger?"

"Mm," Richard replied. A slight shiver went down his spine and forced a giddy laugh out of him. This was a terrible idea, but Erlich's delight—and the way he smirked down at Richard in a greedy, manic sort of way—drowned out Richard's ability to properly care. "Fuck yeah."

"Maybe this night _is_ salvageable, then," Erlich said, slipping his hand into Richard's, gently tugging him off down the hallway, closer to the sound of voices. "Now the _billion_ -dollar question is—do you think you could be quiet?"

Richard laughed again, unable to keep from grinning. He was already beginning to regret it, but there was no way he could bring himself to go back on it now, not with Erlich looking at him like he was going to tear him to pieces. "Definitely not."

Erlich returned his grin, wide and crooked, as he pulled Richard through a doorway and into his arms.

"Good."


End file.
